Hogwart's Mercy
by QotNS
Summary: The final battle of the Light has taken place and it has gone badly for them. Captured, Harry mourns the loss of everything he held dear, but the spirits of Hogwarts has decided to give him a second chance.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Harry Potter**_**. 'Nuff said**.

A day of mourning. A day of darkness with the bitter aftertaste of war. It was over. It was_ over._ Oh, gods, _Hermione._

_The smell of blood assaulted his senses. Brightly colored hexes were flying around him, hitting those around him. A flash of green was racing towards him, but before he could realized what had happened, a flash of brown intercepted it before crumbling at his feet. Bile rose in this throat as he looked at his best friend, his _sister.

Harry felt himself becoming more conscious. He started to notice his surroundings, dark, damp walls and cold metal encasing his wrists. His thoughts raced, trying to figure out what happed. What had happened to Ron? They had been separated in the fight. Was he dead? Captured? Did he know about his lover's death? His thoughts drifted to the other red-heads, and he had to choke back a sob as he remembered Ginny and the twins' death more than a year ago. The only female Weasley child had gone to visit her brothers in their shop when Death Eaters completely destroyed it, the three Weasleys still inside. It was an even worse blow for the fact that Ginny had been five months pregnant. Draco hadn't been the same since, often drinking his pain away.

The eldest Weasley brother had died a few feet away from Harry early on in the final fight. The image of Ron's stricken face before he chased after the Death Eater to revenge his only remaining sibling's death, still haunted his mind. Charlie had died in a raid two years ago along with Tonks and Moody. Percy had disappeared in his 7th year. Dull green eyes filled with tears as he thought of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley...

_Draco burst through the door, face even paler than usual "Death Eaters," he gasped as Harry, Ron, and Ginny looked at him in shock, "Attacking the Burrow. Hurry." And all three were following after him as fast as they could. They apparated to the Burrow just in time to see black cloaks disappearing into the night. A blast of heat hit them as the Burrow lit up the darkness. Smoke twisted upward, caressing a green skull. Ginny, only nineteen, a _child_, turned to find comfort in the nearest person. It was Draco. She pressed her face into his chest as she sobbed. Surprisingly, he did not push her away but drew her closer, not saying anything. Neither Ron nor Harry noticed, transfixed by the sight, tears streaming down their face._

Why was he, Harry, the person the Dark Lord hated above all, still alive? So Voldemort could gloat? So he could be tortured? Draco would know. He was the best spy they had ever had; taking the position shortly after Snape had been killed. But Draco was dead, having shown his loyalties in the final battle. He and his father had found each other, and Draco had been able to kill him, sadly not before receiving a fatal chest wound. Blaise had gone insane from his best friend's death, and since Lucius was dead, he attacked the Dark Lord. Ten minutes later, he was dead, a satisfied smile adorning his lips at the scar he had left on his enemy's face.

How many others had died? With a jolt, Harry realized he had lost track of when and how half of the people he knew had died. Or even if they _had _died. He knew the Dean had been dead for a least a year, but how had he died? Where was Susan? What had happened to Oliver? There were too many people, too much war. Well, it was over. Bitter tears coursed down his cheeks.

This wasn't how it was suppose to happen! The Light wasn't suppose to lose! His friends and family weren't supposed to die. When had it gone wrong? When he didn't let Sirius kill Wormtail? When Dumbledore died? When the Ministry fell? The tears fell faster, harder, splashing against the cold stone. He would give anything to see them again. Ginny laughing, Draco's half smile of amusement, flying with Ron, teasing with Hermione, Mrs. Weasley's hugs. He wanted to see everyone happy, without the strains of war lining their faces. Exhastion took him, and he slipped into unconsciousness.

He was in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. Sun filtered down from the enchanted ceiling bathing his face in warmth. He had never seen this place completely empty. The staff table in the front was set with plates and silverware, absent of food and teachers. Harry mentally filled the chairs. Dumbledore's high-backed chair, with McGonagall on his right, Snape to his left. Flitwick, the DADA spot, Sprout, Hagrid...

Harry turned to continue looking around the hall. There was Slytherin table. His lips twitched as he remembered when he had told Draco that the hat had wanted to place him in Slytherin. His former rivals face had been priceless. Then the blond had grinned and told him he should have accepted.

The green and silver banner moved in an invisible wind mirrored by the three other banners. The red and gold banner of Gryffindor made Harry smile wistfully as he remembered all of the good memories that had been made in that house.

He wondered how he could smile. His friends were lost. He, not to mention the world, was in the Dark Lord's hands. Yet a sense of calm was radiating through the hall. Suddenly Harry realized that it was because of the music playing around him. A phoenix's song. Confused, he searched his memory for when the song had begun and came to the realization that it had started so low that he hadn't heard it and slowly grew louder. It reminded him of the time when the Dursleys hadn't been able to dump him on Ms. Figg and took him to a concert. As the singers walked in they sang so lowly that it took a second for the audience to notice they were singing.

Harry was pulled out of his thoughts by a flash of fire. Startled he saw the goblet of fire resting in front of the Headmaster's chair. The phoenix's song intensified as the flames in the goblet turned into an emerald green and grew, twisting up to form the shape of a snake. Before he could do more than blink in surprise, the flames changed to a deep crimson and shifted into a lion, then a pale yellow badger, then a royal blue raven. Harry stood entranced as the raven's wings and tail lengthened and it subtly changed its shape while its color changed into a deep gold. The golden phoenix let out a thrill of music before flying at the raven-haired man.

Everything went black.

Harry felt himself start to drift away from the dream. The faintest bit of consciousness penetrated his dream as his real self started to rouse. A gentle voice bade him farewell as the darkness started to recede.

_Sleep, Little One, Hogwarts has granted your wish._


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Harry Potter**_**. 'Nuff said**.

**So I submitted my first fanfiction ever (purely for my own enjoyment as my faith in my writing skills has forever been crushed by my former English teacher who grades harsher than anyone. She was also my favorite teacher) and I didn't expect any good response at all. So thank you reviewers. Love you!**

**Oh, and for future references, I need to know who would be a good match for Hermione and Ron. I had them together for before the time transportation thing, but I really dislike the pairing. Ideas? Also, Harry will not be romantically involved with anyone (unless I change my mind). **

**I find that a lot of things in the books don't fit in my story and/or I dislike them, so I'll often change things to fit my liking. About 90% of the mistakes I make in reference to the actual books will be deliberate. **

**Chapter 1: Trip Down Memory Lane**

With a gasp of pain, Harry's eyes snapped open, instinct keeping him from screaming as fire coursed through his head. He couldn't scream. He _must_ not scream. He had been locked in his cupboard for a week last time his nightmares had woken the Dursleys. The _Dursleys_.

_A raven-haired teen stood watching his childhood home burn, his mouth set in a grim line_. _A green skull floated above the house, grinning at him mockingly. Harry knew what the Dark Lord was doing. The bastard was demonstrating his power while killing more of Harry's family. The blood wards had not only protected _him. _Well, if Voldy expected him to be completely torn up over their deaths and come recklessly chasing after him, he would be sorely disappointed. Sure, he felt something at his family's deaths, but it was mostly guilt. All chances of him being sad for them were dashed at the memories of his childhood. Still, Harry closed his eyes, what a 17th birthday gift._

The pain in his head intensified. _Gift._

_A _Firebolt.

_Sirius._

_Dementors._

_A silver stag._

_Prongs._

_The transparent shape of his father._

_A phoenix's song._

_A Basilisk._

_Tom Riddle._

_Voldemort._

Foreign shapes and emotions invaded Harry's mind, linking to each other, causing a chain reaction of memories. How long he lay there, clutching his head in pain, mouth open in a silent scream, Harry didn't know. As the pain subsided, his eyes slowly opened revealing green eyes that were darkened by a lifetime of sorrow and pain. The small boy drew a shuddering breath. He knew what it felt like to hold a wand, casting advanced spells, although logically he knew he had never produced more than a few sparks. He knew the formulas for advanced potions, knew the school he was about to attend like the back of his hand, knew... what it was like to kill a man. Harry closed his eyes again. He felt the rush of magic flow through his veins, something he had never been aware of before. Eyes shooting open again, he frowned and brought his hand up, palm facing up and easily, as if he had been doing it for years, called his magic and manipulated it to create a small fire in his hand.

Worried eyes turned up to stare at the ceiling, fist clenching, extinguishing the bright flame. What now? How the hell was he suppose to deal with being twelve again? Or having his twenty-five year old's memories and experiences being crammed into his twelve year old's mind, whichever way you want to look at it. He couldn't tell which one it was. Well, one thing was sure, if this was his future, he'd just have to change it.

"BOY!" 'Boy' flinched, touching his still tender head. _Vernon. _"Get your stuff and get down here if you don't wish for us to just leave you!"

_**--x**_

Harry watched as his relatives drove away, laughing at their nephew's absolute _stupidity_ for thinking there was a platform 9 _3/4_. Just look between 9 and 10. There was _obviously_ no platform there. What was the freak thinking was going to happen? A platform just _magically_ appearing? _Oh, wait!_ Harry thought, rolling his eyes. _Stupid, close-minded... _Luckily, his thought was cut short by the arrival of a certain group of red-heads. Pausing, he drank up every detail of his adoptive family as they passed, one-by-one through the passageway. Percy, Gred, Forge, and Ron was about to go when Harry pushed forward, attracting the attention of the Weasley mother.

"Excuse--" He was cut off by Mrs. Weasley's warm voice.

"First time at Hogwarts, dear?" She said smiling at him. He nodded quietly. "Ron's new as well. I suppose you want to know how to get onto platform? Well, all you have to do is walk straight at the barrier, and you'll go straight through. Why don't you go before Ron?"

The dark-haired boy thanked her, pushing his trolley toward the brick wall, calmly pushing through it onto platform 9 3/4. A scarlet train greeted him, letting out a shrill whistle in welcome.

As he attempted to lug his trunk onto the train and into a compartment, the twelve-year-old cursed his young (and slightly malnourished) body. Thankfully the next time the trunk slipped, two pairs of freckled hands caught it and helped him hoist it up on the luggage rack.

"Thanks," Harry muttered, wiping his brow and turning to face the people who helped him. Unsurprisingly, Fred and George (he _still_ couldn't tell them apart) grinned back at him.

"No problem. Let us introduce ourselves; I'm Fred and the ugly bloke there is George," The twins held out their hands, and Harry, laughing quietly, took them. His good mood lessened slightly, however, when twin pairs of eyes slid up to glance at his forehead. Said pairs of eyes widened.

"You're Harry Potter!" They exclaimed in awe. Harry smiled wryly.

"Yeah. Harry James Potter. The Boy-Who- Defeated-The-Most-Powerful-Lord-In-A-Century-Yet-Cannot-Get-His-Trunk-Onto-The-Luggage-Rack-Without-Help. That's me," The dark-haired boy muttered, rolling his eyes. The twins laughed.

"Okay, fine, we won't hero worship then," they grinned, "We have to go. See you, Harry!"

Harry's smile gentled as he turned to the window to watch them join their family. Gods, he had missed those two.

A while later, Harry was flipping through his History of Magic textbook to refresh his memory, as it was the only subject he was likely to have trouble in, when a light knock interrupted him. He glanced up and was met wih the sight of yet another red head.

_Ron._

His family was coming back together.


End file.
